Hokey Pokey Quotes

Whoa, boy, he told himself. Golden Rule for Demigods: Thou shalt not Hokey Pokey with psychos.

Vampire politics make the very complicated dance of manners that is werewolf protocol look like the Hokey Pokey.

When we quit playing Hokey Pokey with God and keep our whole self in, His blessings pursue us!

Once you’ve stepped in, said the voice in the back of her head, you’re in. This isn’t the Hokey Pokey.

It was like the panting of a thousand puppies.

> I used to be addicted to the hokey pokey. > But then I turned myself around.

If you believe it, it happens. If you don't, it doesn't. When you believe him, you put your own power in his hands.

Today is the first day of the wreck of your life.

It was as if she played the hokey pokey with her love life. She’d put her left foot in, get it bitten by a blood-sucking evil snake, then pull it out and shake it the fuck about.

I was addicted to the Hokey Pokey, but I turned myself around!

Lydia took a deep breath as she prepared to sing the hokey pokey of her life story, where she put the truth in, pulled a lie out, added an embellishment, and shook it all about.

I have to admit that I'm feeling a little anxious these days. We've all been lied to so much. There's just all this uncertainty we're facing... I mean, what if the hokey-pokey ISN'T what it's all about?

48  On a Mac, you can create an en dash by typing option-hyphen. On an iPhone, if you lean gently on the hyphen key, an en dash will present itself, as well as an em dash and a bullet. On a PC, I believe one types command–3–do the hokey pokey, or some such.

One of the adults does his best impersonation of a DJ, and when encouragement doesn't work,he demands that everyone form a circle on the dance floor to do the hokey pokey. However, ten seconds into the dance, he suddenly realises how ill advised it is for ex-tithes to be putting various body parts in and out.

Come on! Come on!” Leo urged. He made the mistake of glancing back. Only a stone’s throw away, the first Maenad appeared out of the woods. Her eyes were pure red. She grinned with a mouth full of fangs, then slashed her talon fingernails at the nearest tree and sliced it in half. Little tornadoes of leaves swirled around her as if even the air were going crazy. “Come, demigod!” she called. “Join me in the revels!” Leo knew it was insane, but her words buzzed in his ears. Part of him wanted to run toward her. Whoa, boy, he told himself. Golden Rule for Demigods: Thou shalt not Hokey Pokey with psychos. Still, he took a step toward the Maenad.

Maybe it's all too simple for the big brains to figure it out. What if the hokey-pokey is really what it's all about?

It's my opinion he don't want to kill you,' said Perea - 'at least not yet. I've heard deir idea is to scar and worry a man wid deir spells, and narrow misses, and rheumatic pains, and bad dreams, and all dat, until he's sick of life. Of course, it's all talk, you know. You mustn't worry about it. But I wunder what he'll be up to next.' 'I shall have to be up to something first,' said Pollock, staring gloomily at the greasy cards that Perea was putting on the table. 'It don't suit my dignity to be followed about, and shot at, and blighted in this way. I wonder if Porroh hokey-pokey upsets your luck at cards.' He looked at Perea suspiciously. 'Very likely it does,' said Perea warmly, shuffling. 'Dey are wonderful people.' ("Pollock And The Porrah Man")

Wanna dance?" she asked. "I think they're playing our song." "Oh yeah? What's that?" "The hokey-pokey." "No shit." "Sure," she said, "don't you hear it?" She left her bikini top on, but she removed the bottom and then wrestled off my trunks. She held our suits in one hand and with the other grabbed hold of the horn of plenty. "Salve work?" she asked. "Miracle drug," I said "And how to you do the hokey-pokey?" she asked. "I forget." "You put your right foot in." "Right." "You put your right foot out." "Good." "You put your right foot in and you shake it all about." "Great. What's next?" she asked and kissed me sweetly. "After the foot?

The floor was full of crepe streamer seaweed and decomposing pirates. Or at least so it seemed. Half of the male population of Willing was out srutting its stuff in frilly shirts, head scarves, and gruesome makeup. Although, to be fair, some of the contorted faces had more to do with exertion than costume-store goop. Some boys need to concentrate really hard if they want to get their limbs to work with the music. It looked like "Thriller" meets Titanic. Of course,the other half was blinding. As predicted, sequins reigned. Also as predicted, the costume of choice was some sort of skirt(the smaller the better) paired with a bikini top (ditto). As I watched from my seat at the edge of the gym,a mousy physics teacher dressed in a rotuned foam sea-horse suit had a brief, finger-waggling argument with a mermaid over the size ofher shells. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but the hand gestures said plenty. The teacher won; Shell Girl stalked off in a huff. She stopped halfway off the floor to do an angry, hokey-pokey leg shake to disentangle a length of paper seaweed from around her ankle. A group of mathletes watched her curiously. One,wearing what looked like a real antique diving suit, even tried an experimental shake of his own leg before another elbowed him into stillness.

I leave him there and head for the kitchen, sighing when I see a chair shoved over to the counter, Maddie standing on it, digging through the cabinets. “What do you think you’re doing, little girl?” “Looking for the Lucky Charms,” she says as I pull her down and set her on her feet. “I’m afraid we’re all out.” I grab a box of Cheerios. “How about these?” She makes a face of disgust. “Raisin Bran?” Another face. “How about some cottage cheese?” She pretends to gag. “Uh, well, how about—?” “How about I take you out for breakfast?” Jonathan suggests, stepping into the kitchen. “Pancakes, sausage, eggs…” “Bacon!” Maddie declares. “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, you know, with the whole you being you thing.” “Me being me,” he says. “Yeah, chances are you’ll get recognized and then have to explain this whole thing and well, you know, I’m not sure it’s worth it for some breakfast.” “But it might be bacon,” Maddie whines. Jonathan hesitates, thinking it over, glancing between us before he says, “I know somewhere we can go.” Mrs. McKleski’s place. Landing Inn. That’s where he takes us. Maddie and I stand in the woman’s foyer in our pajamas, while Jonathan wears just the leather pants from the Knightmare costume. Mrs. McKleski looks at us like we’ve gone crazy, and I instantly want to be anywhere else in the world, but it’s too late, because Maddie’s been promised some bacon. “You want breakfast,” Mrs. McKleski says. “That’s what you’re telling me?” He nods. “Yes, ma'am.” She stares at him. Hard. I expect a denial, because this whole idea is absurd, but after a moment, she lets out a resigned sigh. “Fine, but go put on some clothes,” she says. “This is an inn, Mr. Cunningham, not Chippendales. I won’t have you at my breakfast table looking like a gigolo.” He cocks an eyebrow at the woman. “Wasn’t aware you knew what a gigolo was.” “Go,” she says pointedly, “before I change my mind.” “Yes, ma’am,” he says, flashing her a smile before turning to me and nodding toward the stairs. “Join me?” I stare at him, not moving. He steps closer. “Please?” “Fine,” I mumble, glancing at Maddie, not wanting to cause a scene. “Hey, sweetheart, why don’t you have a seat in the living room?” “Nonsense,” Mrs. McKleski says. “She can come help me cook. Teach her some responsibility. Not sure her father ever learned any.” Jonathan scowls before again motioning for me to follow him. “And no hanky-panky,” Mrs. McKleski calls to us as we start upstairs. “What’s the hanky-panky?” Maddie asks, following the woman to the kitchen. “She means the hokey-pokey,” I yell down before Mrs. McKleski can answer, because there’s no telling how that woman would explain it. “Oh, I like the hokey-pokey!” Maddie looks at the woman with confusion. “Why don’t you wanna play it?” “Too messy,” Mrs. McKleski grumbles. “All that turning yourself around.” Shaking my head, I go upstairs, stalling right inside the room as Jonathan sorts through his belongings to find some clothes.

sing the hokey pokey of her life story, where she put the truth in, pulled a lie out, added an embellishment, and shook it all about.

I have navigated so much of my life on autopilot, moving mechanically through the more routine parts of my day. Then, when the spiritual parts arrive—meetings, speaking, praying, writing, engagements—I ask that His Spirit fill, inhabit and lead me. That is certainly a good thing, but not His best thing. It was never God's intention for any of us to live our lives in the land of perpetually playing spiritual hokey-pokey.

Golden Rule for Demigods: Thou shalt not Hokey Pokey with psychos.

Belief systems. Do you want your religion to be spiritual or secular? Past-focused or future-focused? Do you want it to be violent or nonviolent? These are all important questions, but don’t worry, only I have the answers. How to find your first followers. And more important: what do you want your followers to be? Rich? Poor? Male? Female? Vegan? I have the inside scoop! Rituals, rituals, rituals! Eat this. Stand there. Recite that. Bow and kneel and clap your hands! Do the hokey pokey and turn yourself around! That’s what it’s all about! The most enjoyable part of religion is coming up with dumb stuff that you all agree somehow means something. I will provide you with a complete guide to developing the hippest, coolest rituals on the

I’ve never wanted to be compliant,” Nora said. She bad always wanted to be true, instead; though she had failed at that.

Merlini Sat up in bed with the cautiousness of someone who has read too many cheap ghost stories, trying not to catch the attention of shadows.

Hotel housekeeping soured you on people’s nature. And guests did worse than scratch at the furniture. This had been a source of pessimism for Frye before her engagement: she anticipated never marrying, because men liked an ignorant bride, and hotel women saw too much to be truly ignorant. The work made you worldly. When you looked at old housekeepers you could see in the lines of their face and the wariness of their posture that they were jaded. They were up at all hours, at dawn, at noon, at two in the morning; they inhaled, drank, and ate the hotel.

Quarrington recognised this feeling from heavy snowfalls in prior years. He theorists that hotels should be for pleasure, or business, but never an emergency in a storm. As soon as people were confined to them, things went wrong. So many people in proximity, none of whom belonged there, and who had been deprived of their exit, were bound to start acting strangely. Because of this, no building, cut off, could rival a hotel for claustrophobia.

Patient MCCLX suffered a cold, u caring mother, and as a result had an extremely fragile sense of self. The patient frequently questioned whether she had any real self at all; she compared herself to machines like phonographs or Dictaphones; she doubted she was human. During adolescence this disturbance of the self had progressed to full-blown delusion. The patient fantasised she was a supernatural entity who enjoys human flesh and assumes the identity of its prey; she had intermittently adopted the mannerisms and speech of her mother’s supposed victim. The attraction of this fantasy was that the patient could split off her true, fragile self and disavow it.

If that memory were false, she didn’t know how the trust the rest.

Well.” Lydia took a deep breath as she prepared to sing the hokey pokey of her life story, where she put the truth in, pulled a lie out, added an embellishment, and shook it all about.

Office and Classroom Tools—Have the child cut with scissors; use a stapler and hole puncher; draw with crayons and chalk; paint with brushes, feathers, sticks, and eyedroppers; squeeze glue onto paper in letters or designs, sprinkle sparkles on the glue, and shake off the excess; and wrap boxes with brown paper, tape, and string. MOTOR PLANNING Jumping from a Table—Place a gym mat beside a low table and encourage the child to jump. After each landing, stick tape on the mat to mark the spot. Encourage the child to jump farther each time. Walking Like Animals—Encourage the child to lumber like a bear, on all fours; a crab, from side to side on all fours; a turtle, creeping; a snake, crawling; an inchworm, by stretching flat and pulling her knees toward her chest; an ostrich, while grasping her ankles; a duck, squatting; a frog, squatting and jumping; a kangaroo or bunny, jumping; a lame dog, with an “injured” leg; a gorilla, bending her knees; a horse, galloping. Playground Games—Remember Simon Says, Ring-Around-the-Rosy, The Hokey-Pokey, London Bridge, Shoo Fly, and Mother, May I? Insy-Outsy—Teach the child to get in and out of clothes, the front door, and the car. With a little help, the child may become able to perform these tasks independently, even if it takes a long time!

It’s Okey-Dokey to play the Hokey Pokey in Cahokia Poem You cannot play the Oompa-pah in Galaxy Andromeda. You cannot do the Can-can in Afghanistan. You cannot play ping-pong while sounding a gong. You cannot tick a tock when your name’s Mum to tick-a-lock. Gainsay or naysay to play the Cha-Cha in Panama. Nix beatnik tricks playing Second Fiddle doing a Paradiddle. Try not to play off-key when you know you have bats in your belfry. But it is Okey-Dokey to play the Hokey Pokey in Cahokia. --Poems that Will Never See the Light of Day, vol. I

to the end: four fat oxen having their arses wiped and in general being tidied up to serve god under my window with stoles of Imperial purple with tassels, and grooms before the carroccio on which carroch six lion heads to receive the wax offering Thus arrive the gold eagles, the banners of the contrade, and boxes of candles ‘Mn-YAWWH!!!’ Said the left front ox, suddenly, ‘pnAWH!’ as they tied on his red front band, St George, two hokey-pokey stands and the unicorn ‘Nicchio! Nicch-iO-né!!’ The kallipygous Sienese females get that way from the salite that is from continual plugging up hill One box marked ‘200 LIRE’ ‘laudate pueri’ alias serve God with candles with the Palio and 17 banners and when six men had hoisted up the big candle a bit askew in the carroch and the fore ox had been finally arse-wiped they set off toward the Duomo, time consumed 1 hour and 17 minutes.